


Crazy

by Yagi



Series: Third Life [1]
Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: M/M, Mental Institutions, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2018-08-14 13:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 17,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8015611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yagi/pseuds/Yagi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kunzite and Zoisite have been reborn in modern-day America, and have found themselves... in a mental institution?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ch1

“I’ve felt like this as long as I can remember,” the blond teen said.

“Like you had lived before,” the psychiatrist said in a completely nonjudgmental tone, but Zarah still couldn’t help feeling like he was being mocked.

“Don’t say it like that. I’m not crazy.”

“I never said you were. I’m just trying to understand what it is you’re telling me,” the doctor said, pushing up his glasses. “I know you said you’ve always had very vivid dreams.”

“When I was little I was scared of them, especially the ones about the monsters, but as I got older I started to realize they weren’t really monsters. They were… well, I don’t want to call them servants, but I can’t really say they were friends. I guess I should say they worked for me,” Zarah replied. “Those girls were the real enemies.”

“Mm-hmm.”

The doctor still didn’t believe a word he was saying, he could feel it. Sighing deeply, Zarah pushed his dirty blond curls back behind his ears; it was getting rather long now, past his shoulders. He had taken to pulling it back into a low ponytail, but the psychiatric hospital staff had taken away the leather cord he’d had it tied with when he was brought in, as well as his shoelaces and belt. They claimed it was something about a mandatory suicide watch for new patients, but killing himself was just about the last thing Zarah Andros would have wanted.

“I know how it sounds. Don’t you think I know how this sounds? All this talk about monsters and Sailor Senshi… But if it’s not true, how do I remember pop culture and current events from years before I was born? How do I know so much about Japan, a place I’ve never been in my life?”

“You read a lot, don’t you? Maybe watch a lot of that anime stuff that’s popular with kids your age? Isn’t it more likely you picked up your knowledge from those?”

Zarah sighed again, closed his green eyes and raised his face up towards the ceiling.

“Forget it,” he said after a moment. “Nothing I can say is gonna make you believe me, anyway. Might as well toss me in a padded room with a special coat and be done with it.”

“We’re not going to do that, Zarah,” the doctor reassured him. “We’re here to help you feel better so you can go back home as soon as possible.”

In other words, they were going to keep him here (and probably pump him full of antipsychotic drugs) until they thought he was over his “delusion.” It looked like he was going to have to employ his best drama class skills if he were to have any hope of getting out of there any time soon.

“So when do I get my shoelaces and everything back?”

“Right now you just worry about getting settled in,” the doctor said. “We’ll talk again on Monday and if you’re doing well we’ll see about getting your shoelaces back.”

Great, so he was going to have to go all weekend with his sneakers unlaced. But at least they had let him keep his own clothes; he would have hated to have to wear a uniform and house shoes or those awful green hospital socks with the rubber treads on the bottom.

Zarah dug his hands deep into his pockets and watched the ground as a male nurse led him through sterile white corridors on the way to the teen boys’ ward. As they passed, the nurse pointed out the cafeteria and the canteen. He barely even looked up to acknowledge the locations. It wasn’t likely he’d be allowed to go to either any time soon, anyway; those were privileges that had to be earned, and he had just gotten there.

Several men walked down the other side of the hallway, chattering among themselves about what they planned to buy at the canteen.

“Hey, girl,” one of the guys said as he passed.

Zarah patently ignored the man, hoping he would just go away, but instead it only seemed to make him angry.

“Hey, girl,” the man repeated, “I’m talking to you. What’s your name?”

The nurse put a hand on Zarah’s back to hurry him along past the men, but when he heard what was said next, he whirled around to fully face the men.

“Leave the child alone.”

It was a deep, authoritarian, yet still calm and quiet voice, and Zarah knew exactly who it belonged to. The man was tall and broad-shouldered, with sepia-hued skin and pale, icy blue eyes. He wore his silver hair close-cropped and had a neatly trimmed goatee, but Zarah would know that face anywhere.

“Kunzite,” the name escaped his lips barely more than a whisper.

His instincts were confirmed as he saw the shock of recognition on the taller man’s face.

“Zoisite.”

There was so much Zarah wanted to say to his mentor, so much he wanted to ask. Hell, he wanted nothing so much as to run over and leap into the man’s arms. But before he got the chance, the nurse had taken hold of him and was steering him back towards the teen ward.

“Wait, I know him!” the boy protested. “Talk to him, he’ll tell you I’m not crazy. He’ll tell you everything I said is true!”

“I’m sure he would,” the nurse said. “Not that anybody will believe him; he’s a patient here, too.”


	2. Ch2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt's story- how did he get there and why is he suddenly so much better?

Kurt Sadik seemed to have everything going for him; intelligence, wealth, an influential family and roguish good looks inherited from his father. What could have possessed someone so blessed to jump off of a bridge? That had been nearly a month ago.

Sometimes he wished he had been successful, instead of being fished out of the river alive and involuntarily committed for his suicide attempt. His family didn’t even try to visit, so embarrassed they had practically disowned him… if it were even possible to disown a twenty-five-year-old man. They just didn’t understand. Neither did the doctors who fed him antidepressants and talked to him about everything he had to live for and how things would get better soon enough. He hadn’t believed them, at least not until now, when he had once again found his reason to live in the form of a lithe blond teenaged boy he had seen in the hall.

Before this, he thought he had been brought back alone, that he would never see his pupil and lover again. He thought perhaps that would be his punishment for taking the boy’s love for granted when he had it, to have to do without him forever. But today in the hall… there could be no doubt the boy he saw was his Zoisite. Not only that, but the boy had remembered him- called him by name... his previous name, since there was no way for him to have known what name his mentor went by in this life. Now that he thought of it, he didn’t know Zoisite’s new name, either. He was sure it must be something beautiful and elegant, as was only suiting for someone of such beauty.

He wondered what the boy could have been brought in for. Perhaps he had episodes of depression and a history of suicide attempts, as Kurt had? Or perhaps he had simply told his story to the wrong person, and thus had been admitted for psychotic episodes? Kurt knew he would have to have a talk with him about that, if they ever got the chance to speak again. No, there was no “if” about it. They were going to speak again. They would find a way to be together once again; they had to! He had lost Zoisite once and it had left him completely broken. He wasn’t about to lose him again.

“You look like you’re in good spirits today,” the med nurse noticed when she came around that evening. “I don’t suppose it’s because you’re happy to see me?”

“I’m always glad to see you, Beverly,” Kurt replied, almost sounding genuine.

“Liar,” she said with a good-natured laugh. “Here, take your Prozac.”

Obediently he swallowed the capsule- compliance was key, in a place like this, to getting and keeping privileges- and allowed the nurse to look into his mouth to make sure he had really taken it.

“Thank you,” the nurse said.

She expected him to go back to sit down in front of the ward’s only TV (which was currently showing one of those Transformers movies) and let the next person go. But just as she was about to call out the next name, he stopped her.

“May I ask a favor of you?”

“That... depends,” replied Beverly. “What is it?”

“Could you check on someone for me? I’m not asking you to give me any details on his diagnosis or treatment- I know you can’t do that- I’d just like it if you could check up on him, make sure he’s ok.”

“I think I can do that. What’s his name?”

There was a second’s pause as he considered how best to reply. “When I knew him, he was calling himself Zoisite, but I believe he may be using another name now. You’ll know him if you see him; short and slight, with dark blond hair and green eyes, rather effeminate and beautiful. He would be in the teen ward.”

Beverly frowned. “This isn’t one of those relationships that could land you in jail, is it?”

“Of course not,” Kurt insisted. “I used to mentor him, like a big brother figure.”

It was a lie only by omission, and although she still looked uncertain, Beverly seemed to accept it.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Knowing that was the best he could do for now, Kurt thanked her and sat down where many of the other men were watching Transformers. He wasn’t very interested in the movie, himself, so he tried to tune out the sound of it (and the others’ running commentary) as he read the novel he had brought out to occupy himself with. The patients were forbidden to leave the common area for half an hour after med time was over; it was supposed to help discourage cheeking.

His book, obtained from the hospital’s library, was called _Deviant_ and purported to be the true story of Ed Gein, one of the most famous and disturbing serial killers in history. It was the third “true crime” novel he had checked out in a row, so far. He hoped the doctors didn’t make too much of his literary choices. Perhaps next time he should choose something that was a bit of a lighter read? Reading about the depravity of the human mind interested Kurt to no end, however. He had always been one of those who liked to know what made other people tick.


	3. Ch3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being just a level one is boring.

While he was on the lowest level in the hierarchy of patients, Zarah was about as bored as a person could be. He had to eat his meals in the ward and, being on suicide watch, he had to be followed around and watched like a hawk by one of the nurses, even when he had to go to the bathroom! He wasn’t allowed to go anywhere, not even to the classes the others attended to help them learn about their diagnoses and how the brain worked. There was little to read except a few bibles and a stack of old magazines about cars and motorcycles. When he asked whether he could get a fashion magazine, the nurse had looked at him like he had three heads, so he had just mumbled, “Forget it,” and climbed into his uncomfortable bed with its flat, foam rubber and vinyl mattress and pillow, and the sage green crocheted comforter which was starting to unravel a bit at the bottom. But even as he tried to nap, he was being watched from the doorway to make sure he didn’t try anything to harm himself. He couldn’t fall asleep while he was being watched like that.

“Do you mind?”

“Sorry,” the nurse, whose name tag said ‘DeShawn’ said from his chair, which was nearly blocking the doorway, “gotta watch and make sure you’re ok.”

“I’m not suicidal,” Zarah protested.

The nurse shrugged. “It’s standard practice that we keep an eye on the new guys until after Dr. Jeong has had a chance to clear them. It’s just until Monday.”

“Just until Monday,” the boy repeated, wishing (not for the first time) that he had his old teleportation powers to get himself out of there. But it seemed he had been born powerless in this life, or at least as much as he could tell. At home, alone in his room, he used to try to teleport or create an ice sword or something until his mind would hurt from the exertion, but nothing had ever happened. What a cruel joke, he had always thought, for him to so clearly remember everything about his previous lives and yet not to have the abilities he did then!

“Monday will be here before you know it,” DeShawn said. “In the meantime, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”

Zarah sat up on the bed with a sigh and launched into his best impression of a cheesy dating video. “My name is Zarah Andros. I was born in Atlanta, Georgia-“

“I thought I detected a hint of a Southern accent!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a real Southern Belle,” he said crossly. He’d been trying to get rid of that accent most of his life, and didn’t like having it pointed out. “I just turned seventeen a few weeks ago.”

“Well, Happy Birthday!”

“Thanks.”

“So what kinds of things do you like to do?” the nurse asked. “I know being here can be pretty boring, especially as a level one.”

“I read a lot,” Zarah replied. “Sometimes I try to draw, but I’m not very good at it. I garden. I help my family raise the rabbits…”

“We’ve got paper and crayons if you wanna draw.”

“Crayons? How old do you think I am, six?”

“I can’t let you have a pencil while you’re on suicide watch,” DeShawn said apologetically. “You’re sure you don’t want the crayons?”

He thought about it a moment before getting up off the bed. “Not like I’ve got anything better to do.”

Zarah immediately began drawing the person who was first and foremost in his mind at the moment: Kunzite. That was definitely who the man in the hallway had been, even if he had looked very different than what Zarah remembered from his old life. But that was the point, wasn’t it? He was Zarah now and Kunzite was… he didn’t even know his mentor’s name in this life. It would be unfair to expect him- or for Zarah to expect himself- to be exactly the same as before.

“Hey, that’s pretty good! I like the cape,” DeShawn said. “Almost looks like Kurt.”

“Who?”

The nurse shrugged. “He’s a patient here, but he’s got a few years on you; he’s up in the men’s ward.”

Kurt? So was that his name now? That was actually kind of cute.

“Then do you think you can give it to him, with my regards?”

He hesitated a moment before saying, “All right, I’ll try to remember to give it to him next time I see him. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the gesture.”

“So what did you draw?” Zarah asked, looking over at the older man’s paper. “Is that Cubism?”

“Actually, it was meant to be you,” the nurse said with a laugh.

“I… kind of see it…”

“Everyone’s a critic,” he said, shaking his head. “Here, get some tape and hang this thing up on your side of the room. I think you’ll feel a lot better once you’ve made the place your own.”

“Zarah Andros?” the med nurse called out as she entered the ward with her cart.

“What is it?” he asked as he frowned at the pills in the little paper cup.

“That one is called Risperdal and that’s Celexa. Doctor Jeong wants you to try these and see how they work for you.”

“But there’s nothing wrong with me.”

“If you don’t take them willingly, I’ll have to put you down as noncompliant,” the woman warned.

“And then what, they’ll come and force me?”

“Mm-hmm,” she replied, and leaned in to say in a near-whisper, “And I’ll have to give your friend a bad report.”

Zarah paled and froze mid-sass.

“He asked you to look in on me?”

The nurse nodded, and the boy felt his face start to flush just a bit.

She held out the small paper cup containing the pills once again. “All right now, last chance. I’ve got other patients to see.”

Grudgingly, he swallowed both pills at once with a little water.

“Good boy. Now let’s see.”

Even more grudgingly, he opened his mouth to let her check.

“Thank you,” the nurse said.

For the first time, Zarah noticed her name tag said “Beverly”. He also noticed that she and most of the other people he had seen who worked at the hospital had stickers covering the last names on their badges. Apparently they didn’t want patients knowing their whole names. What, did they think the patients were going to stalk them? Well, maybe some of the truly crazy ones might…

Anyway, “You can tell him… tell him I’m ok,” he said. “Going a little stir crazy, but ok.”

“Will do,” she replied with a smile, and then called the next name on her list.


	4. Ch4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Contact

Despite having been done completely in crayon, the drawing was actually rather good. It was surprising; he had never known Zoisite could draw like that. Then again, maybe he hadn’t. Maybe drawing was a talent particular to Zarah, as Kurt had learned his pupil’s name was now. It wasn’t a name he had ever heard before, but he found he liked it. It had a delicate, rather feminine sound that suited the boy. He had taped the drawing to the closet door, the only decoration in his side of the room (as contrasted to his roommate’s side, which featured numerous photos of cars and scantily-clad models cut out of magazines). Kurt liked to gaze on Zarah’s drawing as he fell asleep at night; it helped him feel just a little closer to his pupil. He had Beverly’s daily reports on how the boy was doing to look forward to every evening, and had begun sending his own, which took the edge off the frustration of knowing they were in the same building but couldn’t yet touch or speak. But patience was key here. Zarah had just been admitted three days ago; it took time to gain privileges in this place. So long as he held his temper and complied with the staff’s requests, Zarah should soon be allowed to wander the hospital and grounds unaccompanied, at least for an hour at a time. It wouldn’t allow them to do whatever they pleased, since there were still cameras everywhere, but at least they would be able to see and speak to one another, perhaps over a cup of coffee in the canteen.

Actually, it was while Kurt was sitting alone in the canteen toying with his paper cup of coffee, lost in thought, that he heard a young voice say his name. He turned to find a bespectacled teen boy with a man bun and his hands jammed deep into his jeans pockets.

“Yes?”

The boy offered a hand to shake, and when Kurt took it, he was surprised to feel a folded piece of paper being tucked into his hand. Fortunately he had the presence of mind to palm it instead of immediately putting it into his pocket. That would have been sure to get him searched as soon as he got back to the ward.

“Glad to meet you,” the boy said, forcing a smile. “Zarah’s told me so much about you.”

“Has he?”

He wondered just what Zarah had been telling people. Hopefully he would have the good sense not to tell his whole previous life’s story to just any- and everyone.

“Yeah, he really seems to look up to you. He said you were like a big brother to him, that you taught him just about everything he knows,” the boy said. “You must be proud he turned out so well.”

Kurt smiled genuinely. “I am. He’s a very bright and capable young man. How is he doing?”

“He’s a pretty good roommate, mostly keeps to himself. He’s taken up drawing a lot; his side of the room is more decorated than mine, and I’ve been here almost three weeks!”

Good, Zarah had the sense to keep himself out of trouble while he was there.

But “What sorts of things has he been drawing?” he wanted to know.

“Mostly flowers. He seems to really like flowers. People once in a while,” the boy said with a shrug. “One of the dudes he draws kinda looks like you. He calls that one Kunzite.”

None of that surprised Kurt in the least, but it did concern him in the sense that, as long as Zarah was talking about and doodling his previous life, the doctors would likely be unwilling to discharge him.

“He certainly does have a fertile imagination, doesn’t he?”

“Better than anything I could make up,” the boy agreed.

Kurt glanced at the clock on the wall and stood up from his chair.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, my hour is nearly up,” he said. “I had better get back to the ward.”

The boy nodded and gave a half-hearted good-bye before he went over to the snack machines, himself, to grab a candy bar.

No sooner had he signed back in at the ward than Kurt went back to his room to read the note. The fact it was written in pencil seemed a good sign; it meant Zarah had at least been taken off suicide watch. Unfortunately, the only pencils allowed in the hospital were short, dull and lacked erasers (unless one was lucky enough to get a cap eraser, but those were few, far between and frequently stolen) so Zarah’s note was littered with crossed out words where he had made a mistake or changed his mind about what to write.

 _K_ , it began simply enough.

_I never got a chance to thank you for standing up for me in the hall the day I came. Before that, I had given up hope of ever seeing you again. I was surprised to find out you were a patient here, too. What could you have ever possibly done to end up in a place like this?_

_I finally got off level one today, so at least I get to go to the cafeteria to eat, but I haven’t seen you there. I guess we have different meal shifts. If I can get to level three I can go to the canteen and library, but only accompanied by a staff member. I think we’ll have to wait until I’m a four before we can meet somewhere on our own, but maybe if you’re conveniently there when staff takes us we can talk a little._

_My roommate is a four, so if you want to get a reply to me, you can give it to him to give to me. I hope to see/talk to you soon!_

_XOXOXO, Z_

No sooner had Kurt read the note than he tore it up into tiny pieces and flushed it down the toilet; he didn’t want to get caught with a contraband note on his person. But should he risk his level and his privileges to send a reply?


	5. Ch5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Zarah convince the doctor he's better?

“So how do you feel the Risperdal and Celexa are working for you?” Dr, Jeong asked as he glanced over the charts.

Zarah wasn’t sure how to answer. If he said it was working they would want to keep him on it, but if he said it wasn’t they would just put him on something else. It seemed, at least in this case, he was damned no matter what he did.

“I-I don’t know. It’s really hard for me to self-evaluate.”

“You don’t know how you feel?”

“I mean, I do, but I just thought you might get a more objective evaluation if you ask somebody else.”

“I have,” the doctor said. The ward nurses say you’ve been talking much less about these other lives you claim you’ve had, but you’re still drawing those four men- what is it you call them?”

“Shitennou, the four kings. It’s based on an old Buddhist legend,” Zarah replied with a shrug. “I never claimed to be wholly original in my stories.”

“Stories… so you don’t believe you’re this,” the doctor checked his clipboard again, “Zoisite person anymore?”

“Not anymore.”

The doctor seemed to notice the loophole he had left with his last question, so he followed it up with, “Do you believe that’s who you used to be in a former life?”

“I wish I could’ve been. He’s an amazing character, so cute but so dangerous at the same time. I think he’s kinda like my Sue.”

“Sue? Is that another character from your stories?”

Zarah laughed. “No, Mary Sues are characters who are just too perfect, especially if they represent the author or what he wishes he could be.”

“I see…” Dr. Jeong jotted down a few more notes- perhaps the definition of a Sue? Then he called for a nurse to take Zarah back to the ward.

Zarah was confused for a moment. Did this mean the doctor didn’t believe him? Or maybe they just needed to make sure he was all right before they discharged him?

“How do you think I’m doing?” he asked the nurse on the way back to the ward.

The nurse played dumb. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you think I’m doing better now than I was when I got here?”

“Well, how do you feel you’re doing?”

Why did everyone keep asking him that?

“I don’t know,” he said, jamming his hands deep into his pockets. “I guess I feel ok, but I wanted to get some expert opinions to make sure it’s not just wishful thinking.”

“If you think you’re doing better on your meds, you probably are,” the nurse said. “You know yourself better than anyone else.”

Zarah got back to the ward just as his level four roommate was getting back from one of his outings. He went quietly back to their bedroom and waited. If Keith had any news or replies from Kurt, he would wait a few minutes and then go back to the room to report it. Hope sprang eternal even though it had been three days since his note had been delivered, even though his roommate had gone out quite a few times since then and had always returned empty-handed.

Finally his roommate entered the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

“Did you see him?” Zarah asked quietly, but one could hear the excitement in his voice and see it in his eyes.

Keith nodded and pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. It was written in Japanese, obviously to prevent snooping. Zarah wished he had thought of that.

 _Dearest_ (the kana for Zoisite had been erased and replaced with) _Zarah,_

Zarah wondered where he had gotten the eraser, and why he had obviously had trouble knowing to whom to address his note.

_I hope you can still read Japanese. I thought it would be safer writing it this way. If you reply, please follow suit._

_You asked what I did to end up in a place like this. I haven’t been well since you died. I stopped caring about much of anything and when death came, my one wish was that I could be with you. When I was reborn here I knew this would be our chance at happiness. But the more time passed without meeting you, I began to lose hope. Zarah, the reason I am in this hospital is because I tried to end my life, and it wasn’t my first attempt. But it was fate that brought us here at the same time, I’m sure of that, and now that I’ve found you I’ll never have to try again._

_Since you’ve been here I’ve been doing so much better that the doctor wants to release me on Wednesday. I’ve been here a month, so I’m not sure I have a home to go back to. I’m not sure my parents will let me stay with them while I get back on my feet, either. I may end up in a shelter for a while. If your parents won’t mind, will you give me your home address so I can find you once I’m on my feet again?_

_Ever yours,_ (again he had changed his mind and replaced the name, perhaps as an afterthought)

_Kurt_


	6. Ch6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting in the canteen <3

The reply was delivered the next day, hastily scrawled in Japanese. Some of the kanji were wrong; Kurt didn’t know whether to attribute that to Zarah’s rustiness with the language or the haste in which the note was written.

 _K,_ it began the same as before.

_You’re really about to be discharged? How great and terrible all at once! They haven’t talked about when I’ll get out yet. I hope it will be soon. I’m trying so hard, but I don’t know if the doctor believes me._

_I can’t believe you got put in here for being depressed over me! You’ve always been so stoic; it’s one of the things I most admired about you. Please promise you won’t try anything like that again. I couldn’t stand to lose you like that!_

_Of course I’ll give you my home address. I can ask my parents if you can stay over for a little while if you want, just until you get on your feet again. I’ll call them tonight and see what they say._

_It’s sad that you’re about to go and I just got my level three today. But maybe if you can arrange to be in the canteen this evening around seven, I’ll be there with a group then and maybe we can sit and talk a while. Hope to see you there._

_XOXOXO, Z_

Zarah’s home address was written at the bottom of the page in English. He copied it into the front of his notebook just in case he lost the note, or had it confiscated… because rather than tear it up and flush it down the toilet, he folded this one carefully in half and tucked it into the pages of his notebook. If he was about to be discharged in just a few days, the threat of losing his level and privileges while he was there seemed hollow.

Just as the note had requested, he used his level privileges to go out to the canteen just before seven. He got a cup of “real” coffee- full caffeine, unlike what was served with breakfast in the hospital every morning, and was debating a slice of cheesecake he’d spotted in one of the machines when a small group of teenaged boys entered with one of the nurses in tow.

It didn’t take long to spot Zarah in the group; he looked as radiantly beautiful as ever. Clearly this was the boy’s first time in the canteen, the way he looked around at everything like a tourist in a strange city. He nodded acknowledgement to Kurt, trying to play it cool despite the excitement that could be plainly seen in his eyes. He checked the contents of each machine before choosing to make sure he wasn’t missing anything good.

“Hm, chocolate cake or cheesecake?” the boy pondered as he casually looked over the same machine Kurt was contemplating.

Then, as if to solve the conundrum, Kurt put a couple of dollars into the machine, opened the little compartment door, and took out the cheesecake. Zarah watched him in disbelief, until he saw the man pick up two plastic forks. Did that mean he was planning to share?

Zarah followed his mentor to a table near the corner of the room, close enough to the group of teens so as not to arouse suspicion of impropriety but still private enough to hold conversation unharassed. There was the temptation to converse in Japanese to avoid eavesdroppers, but that would only make them seem suspicious.

“It’s good to see you again,” Kurt said, a hint of a smile crossing his face as he peeled off the top of the cheesecake’s packaging and handed one of the forks to his pupil. “You’ve hardly changed at all.”

The older man gestured to indicate it was ok to go ahead and take the first bite. Zarah paused a moment, fork hovering over the dessert as if to make sure he was ok with it first. Only after he had received another “go ahead” gesture did he pick up a small bite of cheesecake on his fork and put it into his mouth.

“And you’ve changed so much,” Zarah marveled. “But I would know that face and that voice anywhere.”

“And your voice… is that a hint of a Southern drawl I hear?”

The boy buried his face in his hands in mortification. He thought he had trained it out so well, but this was the second time he’d been pegged as a Southerner since he got here.

“I think it’s lovely,” Kurt added.

“You do? I always thought it made me sound like trailer trash.”

“Not in the least.” His hand approached tantalizingly close to Zarah’s but, feeling all eyes were on him, he stopped just short and instead busied himself shoveling a bite of cheesecake into his mouth. “How long have we known one another now? You don’t have to pretend with me.”

Zarah’s body ached to be held, but he knew this was neither the time nor the place for that. He had to be content with just being in the same time and place as his mentor and lover, eating from the same piece of cheesecake.

“This is about the worst cheesecake I’ve ever had,” he noticed with a laugh.

“Is it?” Kurt said as he took another bite. “I’m enjoying the company so much I hardly noticed.”

A becoming flush colored Zarah’s cheeks and he opened his mouth to reply, but the nurse chose just that moment to declare the teens’ canteen time was up.

“I’ll call my parents when I get back to the ward and ask them,” he promised as he reluctantly stood to leave.

“You don’t have to. I can handle this. You just worry about getting yourself well and getting out of here as soon as possible.”

Zarah was about to protest when the nurse spoke his name in a stern tone and jerked his head towards the door.

“We’ll talk about this later,” the boy said on his way out.

But it was already Sunday night and Kurt was set to leave on Wednesday. There wouldn’t be very much more time for talking.


	7. Ch7

What century did this place think it was? They had a row of pay phones, of all things, along one of the walls of the ward’s common area. Patients were only allowed to use them in the evenings between seven and nine, and calls were supposed to be no more than five minutes, although it was rare anyone got in trouble for going a couple of minutes over. The machines still took coins, but most people used phone cards to place their calls. Phone cards were a valuable commodity in the hospital, and if anyone knew you had one they would beg, barter or bribe to try to get it (or the use of it) from you. Zarah was currently in possession of a phone card, given to him by his parents so he could call and let them know how he was doing, but he didn’t want anyone to know he had it. He had taken great pains to memorize the card number and PIN so he could use it without having to carry or reference the card.

He got in line as soon as he was back from the canteen, though it was after eight before he got to use the phone. Now he just had to hope his parents would answer. They wouldn’t still be in church at that hour, would they? (Zarah was a heathen child, or so his parents had teased. He hadn’t been to church in some five years; he had no idea how church-y stuff worked anymore.)

“Hello?” his father answered.

“Dad? It’s Zarah. Um, how are you guys doing?”

“We’re fine, but how are you?”

“Pretty good,” Zarah replied, nervously toying with a lock of his hair. “Um, Dad? Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“And you promise you’ll at least hear me out?”

There was a pause before the man answered cautiously, “Go ahead.”

“I was just wondering… I mean, there’s somebody here that I know, and he’s about to get discharged, but he’s afraid he’ll have to start all over with getting a job and a place to live and everything. I was wondering if he could stay at our place for a while- just for a while!- until he gets back on his feet.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I’m not letting some stranger you met in the hospital stay in our house.”

“He’s not a stranger,” Zarah said. “I know him, and not just from here. We used to be close, but we, um, lost touch for a while, and we just found each other again. Please, Dad? He doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“He doesn’t have a family he can stay with?”

“He doesn’t think they’ll take him in.”

“Then why should we?”

“Because he’s important to me.” There was a pause on the other end of the line until Zarah softly said, “Dad?” just to make sure the man was still there.

His father sighed deeply. “Who is it? Will you at least tell me that?”

Another pause, this time on Zarah’s end. “His name is Kurt. He used to be like a big brother to me. Taught me everything I know.”

“That name doesn’t sound familiar,” his father said. “If he’s so important to you, why did you never mention him before?”

“I did,” Zarah said, burying his face in his free hand. “He was just using a different name at the time.”

“And that would be?”

Yet another pause. From the corner of his eye, he could see DeShawn pointing at his wrist to tell him to hurry up.

Zarah said in a very small voice, “He was Kunzite.”

His father hung up.

There were tears in Zarah’s eyes as he set the old-fashioned receiver back in its cradle. Now not only would Kurt not have anywhere to go, but his dad would think he was crazy for sure. What if his father called the doctor and told him what had been said? He might never get out of there! Zarah ran back to his room and threw himself dramatically down on the bed, sobbing loudly.

A couple of minutes later there was a light knock on the open door, and DeShawn’s voice called, “You ok?”

“No,” came the muffled reply from the pillow.

“Well, do you wanna talk about it? I’m told I’m a good listener.”

“You promise not to tell anyone?”

There was a pause before DeShawn said slowly, “What kind of secret are we talking about here?”

Zarah lifted his head slightly from the pillow and turned his face so he could see the nurse.

“I’m not planning to hurt myself or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Glad to hear. So what’s the problem? Had a bad phone call?”

“That’s the understatement of the year.”

DeShawn entered the room and perched himself on a lower corner of the bed.

“Talk to me.”

The boy sat up and wiped his tears with the back of his hand, like a much younger child.

“I asked my dad for a favor and he hung up on me,” he said vaguely.

“And what favor was that?”

“Well, Kurt is about to be discharged, but he doesn’t have a place to go.”

“So you asked if he could stay at your place a while?” Zarah nodded, so DeShawn continued, “And he said no?”

“How’d you guess?” he said dryly.

“Well, you can’t really blame him. I mean, how many people would agree to let someone who’s not even related to them stay over for who knows how long?”

Zarah shrugged, his lips settling into a pout. He knew DeShawn had a point there; he just didn’t want to admit it.

“Anyway, don’t worry too much about Kurt,” the nurse said. “We’re not gonna let him leave without anywhere to go. He’ll be back on his feet before you know it.”  
“I hope you’re right,” Zarah said, still pouting.

He had just really liked the idea of having Kurt waiting for him there at home as soon as he got out… if they let him out, he thought, after what he’d just blurted out on the phone…


	8. Ch8

Zarah’s roommate was nowhere to be found, so if there was a note to be had, Kurt didn’t receive it. He used his privileges to go to the canteen around seven that evening, but with no meeting arranged all he could do was hope to see his pupil there again. As per his routine whenever he went, he got a cup of “real,” fully caffeinated coffee and peered into the machines to see what was available. Truthfully, he wasn’t really all that hungry, but used it as something both to occupy his time and, tonight, to calm his nerves. (Although if he were really serious about the nerves he could have stuck with decaf.)

The carousel slowly went around for the second time, showing him cakes and pies, sandwiches, yogurt, milk cartons and even a Red Bull, just in case he wasn’t well-caffeinated enough after drinking his coffee. The chocolate cake Zarah had debated on eating last night was no longer there, so he put his money into the machine and took out a slice of strawberry shortcake. He was idly poking at the whipped cream with his fork when a group of teenagers, larger than the night before, entered with a different nurse in tow, the one who had delivered the drawing from Zarah. His name tag said “DeShawn,” with an owl sticker covering his surname. Judging by their limited dealings thus far, Kurt was inclined to like him. He would like him more if the man allowed some private time between Zarah and himself.

Although at first it looked like Zarah was missing from the teenagers’ ranks, but as the youths started to spread out he appeared like an angel through the clouds… if angels wore snarky t-shirts and strategically-ripped jeans. This time the boy hardly made any pretense of looking in the machines before taking a seat beside Kurt.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” the older man said.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t be here.”

“I couldn’t find your chocolate cake, so I got the next best thing; strawberry shortcake.” He offered Zarah a fork, but the boy recoiled as though he had been struck. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m allergic to strawberries,” came the reply.

“Since when?”

“Only all my life,” Zarah said, managing not to sound impertinent.. “They make me swell up like a balloon.”

Well, that was certainly a change from the boy Kurt remembered. Idly he wondered what else may have changed. He pushed the dangerous cake to the other side of the table and cocked his head to one side, taking in the familiar features of his pupil’s face.

“Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?” he requested.

Zarah shrugged half-heartedly. “There’s not much to tell. I have three older sisters, who my parents blame for me being how I am. But they’re all in college now, so I’m the only one still at home. My parents keep rabbits and like breed them and stuff… whether for pets or food or lab experiments, I never had the stomach to ask.”

“And you draw.”

“A little, yeah, but I’m not very good.”

“I enjoy the picture you drew for me. Have you considered going to school for it?”

“Actually, I think I want to work in fashion somehow, like do hair and makeup or have a clothing line or something,” he said. “What do you do?”

Kurt’s face fell. “I used to work at my father’s company- they make pharmaceuticals- but after my first stay in the hospital he thought it would be bad for business to have me there. This has been my third strike, as it were. I don’t think my family would take me back now even if I begged.”

“I asked my dad if you could stay with us a while,” Zarah said. “He hung up on me.”

“You don’t get on well with your father?”

“I do, but… I had to tell him who you were and where I knew you from…”

“You didn’t.”

Zarah shook his head sadly. “I did. That’s when he hung up.”

“Zarah.”

There was no disapproval in his voice, but the boy couldn’t help feeling scolded anyway.

“I know, I know, but I thought it would help convince him!”

“It did; it convinced him your medicines must not be working properly.”

He buried his face in his hands. “They’re going to keep me here forever.”

Kurt wanted so much to gather his pupil up in his arms, stroke his hair and wipe his tears away, but he couldn’t. Not here, not now.

“You won’t be here much longer, not if you know how to play the game. Take the medicine, go to the therapy, and above all,” he leaned in and added in a near-whisper, “Don’t talk about your previous lives as if they were real. Not to the doctors, not to your parents, not to anyone.”

“I tried telling Dr. Jeong they were stories I made up,” Zarah said in the same near-whisper, “but I don’t know if he believed me.”

“Good.” More whispering. “Keep it up, and if you’re consistent, he will.”

“What am I ever going to do without you after you’re discharged?”

“It’ll only be another week or two at the most. And I’ll write.”

“And visit?”

“I can’t. There’s a rule we can’t come back to visit for six months after discharge.”

“What the hell kind of rule is that?” Zarah demanded to know.

“You’ll be fine,” Kurt promised. “Just follow my advice and do what you have to do and you’ll be out before you know it.”

“Do you know yet where you're going after this?”

“They have a spot in a boarding home waiting for me. It won't be much, but I can live with it long enough to find a job and a place to live.”

“I wish my dad had said OK to you staying over. It would've made me feel a lot better knowing you were safe there waiting for me.”

“I’ll be fine. I know how to handle myself in places like that,” he said. “And you don't have to treat me like I'm going to shatter any minute. I'm not as fragile as you think.”

“But we can't do the things we used to,” Zarah protested. “At least I can't. I don't know about you.”

Kurt laughed gently as if humoring a child's joke.

“We don't have to fight anymore, Zarah. It’s one of the beautiful things about this life; we don't have to live our lives in her servitude anymore, don’t have to look for crystals or fight senshi. We’re free to pursue whatever future we want, together.”

DeShawn said in an almost apologetic tone of voice, “Zarah, come on. We’ve gotta hurry back for meds; I already let you guys stay a little over time.”

And for that, Kurt was grateful. This could be the last time for the next few weeks he got to spend any time with the boy… unless… “Can you come again, same time tomorrow?”

“But I don’t have any more money left until my parents send more… if they send more…”

“I’m buying. And I promise no strawberries.”

“A-all right. I’ll see if they’ll let me. Fingers crossed.”

The boy held his crossed fingers in view as he reluctantly turned to leave. Kurt didn’t return the childlike gesture, but acknowledged it with a soft smile and nod.

He threw the strawberry shortcake into the trash uneaten and made a mental note of Zarah’s allergies. It was just one of those things that inevitably differentiated Zarah from Zoisite. And Kurt looked forward to discovering every single quirk.


	9. Ch9

“Your father tells me you were delusional when he talked to you on the phone the other day,” Dr. Jeong said with concern. “You told him Kurt was this Kunzite person you keep talking about.”

 

“Yeah, about that…”

 

“Zarah, have you stopped taking your medications the way you're supposed to?”

 

“Of course not!  Just talk to Beverly. She checks for cheeking every night. There’s no way I could get away with doing that, not on her watch.”

 

“Even as good a nurse as Beverly is, she can't always catch everyone who tries cheeking,” the doctor said. “I’m sorry if it sounds like I'm accusing you of something.  Really I'm not. It’s just that you seemed to be doing so well on the pills I prescribed you. You haven't been on them long enough to build up a resistance,  so the only logical reason for this is if that you must not be taking them properly.”

 

“So, what, you’re gonna force-feed them to me?”

 

“If this noncompliance continues, we may have to resort to that.”

 

Zarah felt tears stinging his eyes.  “But there’s not even anything wrong with me!”

 

“You’ve made it all up? I know that’s what you’ve been telling me, but tell me this: if you know none of it is real, then why would you say what you said on the phone to your father?”

 

“I don’t know,  because he never gave me enough attention growing up? I mean, I'm not exactly the kind of son any dad would be happy to have. I'm not into sports or video games or whatever else teenaged boys are supposed to like. And I'm never gonna have kids, so there go his dreams of having someone to carry on the family name.”

 

“Why couldn't you?” the doctor asked, and Zarah couldn’t tell if he was asking genuinely or just wanted to hear him say it.

 

“Because I don't do girls, ok?” he said, not beating around the bush. “I’m a fairy.”

 

“I see. And how does your father feel about that?”

 

Seeing a chance, Zarah let out his inner Zoisite and threw his father under the bus, figuratively speaking.

 

“I think he’s having a hard time accepting it. With three sisters there's a good chance of him getting some grandkids, but I’m the only boy. If I don't want to start a family there's really no hope for him to have someone carry on the Andros name. Sometimes I think he resents me for being gay.”

 

“So you made up these stories and these four men to catch his attention?”

 

Zarah nodded, while in his mind he just hoped against hope that his story would be believed. 

 

“And the men in your stories are what you want to be? Or what you think your father would want you to be?” Dr. Jeong continued his line of questioning. 

 

“Maybe a little of both,” The boy answered.

 

“So this Zoisite person in your stories is not gay?”

 

“Not originally. In their previous lives back in the Silver Millennium, the Shitennou were in love with the princesses of the inner planets,” he ad-libbed. “Unfortunately, Beryl turned them against their former lovers, and they fought on opposite sides during the battle for the Moon Kingdom. When they were reborn they had no memory of their former lives. The Shitennou, once again under Beryl’s control, fought against the Sailor Senshi, who were actually reincarnations of the princesses they used to love.”

 

“I see.” The doctor took notes as the story was being told. “So I’ve misinterpreted his relationship with that Kunzite fellow, then?”

 

“I started writing them as a couple after I came out. Like I said before, he’s kind of my Sue.”

 

“I see,” Doctor Jeong said again. He tapped the top of his pen against his lips for a moment, thinking, before he said, “So did you base the Kunzite character on Kurt, or did you develop an interest in him because he reminded you of your character?”

 

Without missing a beat, Zarah answered, “Kunzite was definitely based on Kurt. But, you see, he started out just as Zoisite’s mentor and big brother figure. As I got older and realized I loved him as more than just a big brother, that was when the story changed.”

 

“But if the stories were made up so your father would pay attention to you, why would you write in something you know he disapproves of?”

 

“I never told him that part,” he said. “I didn't want him to get mad. As far as he or anyone else in my family knows, the Shitennou are meant to be with the princesses. I would appreciate it if you didn't tell them, either.”

 

“I can’t tell them anything you tell me in confidence,” the doctor reassured him. “Doctor - patient confidentiality.”

 

Good. If his parents knew his real feelings towards Kurt they would never let them see each other. Now he just had to hope his lies would be believed, and that they would help him get out sooner.

 

After a number of incidents of patients trying to beg others to buy something for them, the staff liked the patients to show that they had some money before they went to the canteen. Zarah wouldn’t have any more money unless and until his parents sent him some, but if he didn’t go, he would miss his last chance to see Kurt before the older man left. Fortunately, Zarah was still on good terms with his roommate, Keith, who offered to lend him a little money just long enough to show the nurse. Zarah palmed it back to him on the way to the canteen, when nobody was looking, to resist any temptation to actually spend it. When you don’t know when or if you’re getting more money, getting into debt- even a little- is never a good idea.

 

Kurt was sitting at the same table where they had met before, nursing a cup of coffee, when Zarah entered the canteen. The boy made a show of looking in the machines just so others wouldn’t immediately know he’d just come to see Kurt, but didn’t have any money to buy anything out of them, himself. He half-heartedly turned the carousel inside one of the machines, watching the cakes and pies go by, for another moment before he went, empty-handed, to where his mentor sat.

 

“Didn’t find anything you liked?” Kurt asked.

 

“Oh, I did.”

 

“Name it and it’s yours.”

 

Kurt would have expected him to reply with some kind of cake or candy, but instead he leaned in close and said into the man’s ear, “You.”

 

He wanted to see the man blush or act flustered or something, but as usual Kurt was unflappable.

 

“You’ve got me,” he said with a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

 

“For a few minutes, anyway…”

 

“For as long as you want me,” he promised. “I’ve waited my whole life to meet you again. You won’t be getting rid of me that easily.”

 

“You still have my address?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Good,” Zarah said. “If you lose it, look it up under my dad’s name- Phineas Andros.”

 

Kurt nodded as he committed the information to memory.

 

“Have you gotten in touch with your father again? Tried to explain yourself, at least?”

 

“Not yet, but I talked to Dr. Jeong about it. He wants to change my medicine.” Zarah made a face. “I told him I only made up the stories so my dad would pay attention to me, since I’m not the kind of son he really wanted.”

 

“You’ll want to practice your story to make sure you’ll remember it when they ask again, which they will. They’ll want to catch you in a lie. You can’t let them.”

 

Zarah nodded. “And I’ll try to call home again tonight, if I have enough time on my card. Hopefully they won’t hang up this time.”

 

“They won’t,” he predicted. “If anything, your father will apologize to you for his overreaction. But don’t let that lull you into a false sense of security- you’ll still want to watch what you say.”

 

It was nothing Zarah didn’t know already, but he nodded his agreement nonetheless. It was cute how much his mentor was fussing over him, and he wanted to bask in that attention as long as he could.

 

“So what kinds of things do you like? Are you much of a reader?”

 

The sudden change of subject didn’t throw Kurt at all.

 

“I prefer non-fiction; war stories, true crime, biographies of interesting people,” he said. “I’m guessing you’re more the fictional type; romance novels, fantasy, maybe shoujo manga?”

 

“Oh, I try to read a little of everything, but yes, I do usually prefer fiction.” He should have been offended that Kurt would stereotype him enough to believe he liked romance novels and shoujo manga, but instead Zarah just calmly corrected him, “I’m more into mystery and suspense than romance… except a little yaoi once in a while.” He switched topics again, but at least this one followed more naturally. “What do you like to watch on TV?”

 

“Documentaries, mostly… and home renovation programs,” he admitted. “You?”

 

“My favorites always get canceled, like that old show ‘Pushing Daisies’ that I used to like as a kid, and more recently, ‘Hannibal.’”

 

“If you watch anything long enough, you’ll see it canceled. Everything has to come to an end.”

 

“I know,” Zarah said with a sigh. “Sometimes I just wish it didn’t.”

 

Like right now, he thought as the nurse began rounding the boys up to go back to the ward.

 

“I gotta go,” the boy said as he reluctantly stood to leave.

 

But he was surprised when Kurt stood as well, and wrapped him in a strong embrace.

 

“Take care of yourself,” he said softly. “I’ll see you soon.”

 

Zarah hugged back as hard as his slender arms would let him, for as long as the nurse would let him.

 

“I love you,” Zarah whispered.

 

But before he could get a reply, if there were going to be one, the nurse put a hand on his shoulder.

 

“All right, enough of that. Let’s go,” the man said abruptly.

 

Zarah could only hope that patients hugging wasn’t against the rules so they wouldn’t get in trouble for it. Well, maybe Kurt didn’t care about punishments anymore, since he was about to leave, but Zarah had no idea when he was being let out. If the employees were going to cause trouble over it, he would be the one they would take it out on.

 

There was no lecture waiting for him when he got back to the ward, at least… but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one coming later. Still, just the feeling of being in his lover’s arms again made him feel that, even if he might be lectured or stripped of his level over it later, it would be worth it.

 

He had taken his meds (he hoped it was a good sign the doctor hadn’t changed them after this morning, or at least not yet) and was waiting in line to try to phone home when one of the nurses came in to tell him he had visitors.

 

Well, at least they wouldn’t be able to hang up on him this time.

 

His parents stood from the couch they sat on as he drew near and hugged him. Then they sat him in the awkward space between them on a couch that was only big enough for all three because Zarah was so thin.

 

“So how are they treating you here?” drawled his mother.

 

Zarah had never appreciated her thick Southern accent before. Since they had moved up north he had always been mortified if he was out somewhere with his mother and she had spoken; it always attracted so much attention, and people would ask her to talk more just so they could hear her accent. He had hated that, but now he knew Kurt liked Southern accents, he almost wished he hadn’t tried so hard to train his out.

 

“I’m doing ok,” he replied. “I’ve actually made a couple of friends here. We exchanged addresses so we can keep in touch when we get out. Except the staff I think of like friends. They won’t be allowed to still talk to me after I get out.”

 

“Is this ‘Kurt’ person one of those people you’ve given our address out to?” his father said in an almost accusing tone.

 

“Yeah, well, we just found each other again after all these years, so of course we’re gonna keep in touch.”

 

“And do you still believe he’s this ‘Kunzite’ character you keep talking about?’

 

“He-he’s the one I based the Kunzite character on,” Zarah tried. Whether his dad would believe it or not- hell, whether the doctor really believed it- he couldn’t be sure. But he had to keep his story consistent if he were to have any hope of convincing them.

 

Then his father tried a trick of his own. “How did you two meet, again?”

 

“Back then or in here?” the boy stalled.

 

“Originally.”

 

“Well, I was pretty young at the time; must’ve been second or third grade. I remember being at the park and a couple of older boys were bullying me. Kurt came over and made them stop. He was my hero- of course I was gonna write him into my stories.”

 

“But if he was so important to you, why’d you never bring him around?”

 

“That was his idea; he’s a few years older than me, and he was worried if he came around you’d think he was some kind of perv who was trying to get in my pants.”

 

“Did he try to get in your pants?” his dad asked angrily.

 

“See? This is exactly the kind of thing he was trying to prevent from happening!”

 

“Phineas, stop,” his mom scolded. “This ain’t no police interrogation; we’re here to visit our son.” She patted Zarah on the knee as she asked, “Now, is there anything you need us to bring? Some different clothes? More books? More money?”

 

He considered accepting more money, since what little money he’d had on him when he was brought in was gone, but without Kurt, he didn’t think he would have much reason to go to the canteen anymore.

 

“I’m all right. The library has plenty of books and I’m fine with the clothes you’ve brought already. And for money, all I really have to use it for is the canteen, and all the food there is bad for me, anyway.”

 

“Well, if you’re sure…”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine, Mom. Thanks for asking.”

 

“If you change your mind, you know where to find us,” she said before changing the subject. “Now, sweetie, why don’t you tell us something about this ‘Kurt.’”

 

Zarah felt his cheeks blush involuntarily as he replied, “He’s amazing. Back when I knew him before he was always there to give me help and comfort and advice, and even though it’s been a long time and we’ve both changed since then, we’re still really close. It’s almost like no time has passed between us.”

 

“Is he… gay… too?” his father asked, pronouncing the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

 

Zarah shrugged. “I didn’t ask, and he didn’t mention it. I already told you, though- nothing happened back when we were kids, and even if he does turn out to be gay, even if something does develop between us, so what? I’m seventeen years old, dad, old enough to decide these kinds of things for myself.”

 

“Just, whatever you do, be careful, ok? I don’t want you getting hurt,” his mom said.

 

“Don’t worry, Mom. I have a feeling everything is going to be just fine this time.”


	10. Ch10

It had felt so good just to hold him again after so many years, to wrap his strong arms around that lithe little frame and bury his face in those soft, fragrant blond curls. Zarah had whispered his love confession just as the nurse who had brought the teens had come to collect him. If it hadn’t been for that unfortunate/convenient timing, Kurt was left wondering how he would have replied… or even whether he would have. It wasn’t that he didn’t love the teen- he knew he did- and it wasn’t that he had trouble showing how he felt, either. But when it came down to saying those three little words, he froze like the proverbial deer in the headlights. That was a stereotype about men, wasn’t it? That they would go to any lengths to avoid telling their mates they loved them in so many words? It was to his eternal regret that he hadn’t told Zoisite how he felt about him even as the boy lay dying. Kurt couldn’t let himself make the same mistake with Zarah.

 

Of course, this was all complicated by their difference in age. He wasn’t even sure how old Zarah was, or what the age of consent was in the state. It made him feel somehow like a creepy old man to even have to consider it! Things had been so much simpler for them back in the Dark Kingdom, where they hadn’t been bound to the rules and laws of the outside world; Queen Beryl had been perfectly willing to look the other way on the topic of their relationship so long as they did their jobs. Here he had to worry not only about the law, but about getting the approval of Zarah’s parents as well. Such were the thoughts that plagued his restless mind the night before his planned release from the hospital.

 

The door to the room cracked open for yet another bed check, the sixth one since Kurt had gone to bed around ten. If the bed checks came every fifteen minutes or so, that put the time at around eleven-thirty. Fortunately the nurse didn’t check closely enough to make sure they were actually asleep, only that they were present and accounted for. So long as he was in bed and the lights were out it didn't matter whether he slept or not, which was a good thing because he doubted he would get a wink of sleep all night. He just lay on his back with his hands behind his head, staring up into the darkness.

 

Before he knew it, he was running through the curiously empty halls of the hospital frantically searching for Zarah. He caught a glimpse of dirty blond hair turning a corner, but when he looked down the hallway in question there was nobody there. He called the boy’s name, and the echoes resounded through the halls like shouting into a canyon. There was no reply. He walked along the hall looking into every room, but with no results. He called out Zarah’s name again, followed by more echoes, but this time as he listened ever more closely, he thought he heard a tiny voice in the distance.

 

“Keep talking so I can pinpoint where you are,” he called back.

 

When there was only a small groan in reply he sped up his pace, searching frantically until he came upon a sight that stopped him dead in his tracks: Zarah lay in a pool of blood, his chest scarcely even moving up and down. Kurt snapped himself out of his shock and ran over, cradling the boy in his arms without regard to all the blood.

 

“Kurt,” the tiny voice said, barely audibly.

 

“Shh, save your strength,” he said, stroking the boy’s hair. “I-I’ll bring help.”

 

“It’s all right. I'm not afraid of dying again, not with you by my side,” Zarah said, his voice growing weaker. “I just have to tell you… tell you… I love you.”

 

He knew this could be his last chance, that if he didn’t say it now he might never get to, but he just couldn't get the words out.

 

“Zarah, I…” he began, looking into those adoring eyes, but it was as if he were physically unable to complete the sentence.

 

He heard a sharp intake of breath, and then the boy’s chest rose and fell no more. Kurt felt a wave of panic rush over him.

 

“Zarah!” he said, shaking the still form as if to rouse him from eternal sleep.

 

It was no use.

 

Kurt  felt someone touch his arm, and startled awake, disoriented. Was he still in the hospital?  Where was Zarah? A moment later he came back to himself and tried to calm down. A dream. It had all been nothing but a dream.

 

“Good morning, sunshine,” said one of the nurses. It wasn’t the same one he had seen checking on him what seemed like only a moment before. The shift must have changed as he slept. “Today's your big day.”

 

Kurt sat up in bed, running a hand through his silver hair, which, like the rest of him, was damp with sweat.

 

“Zarah,” was the first word out of his mouth.

 

“Excuse me?” The nurse said.

 

Kurt just shook his head and replied, “Nothing. I-I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

 

He took a hot shower, longer than he usually would have, trying to relax himself. It did no good. All he could think about was the ending of his dream. He still hadn’t been able to say it, even while watching his beloved die once again. Fortunately this time it had just been a dream, but next time?

 

Kurt made a promise to himself that he would tell Zarah his feelings next time he got the chance- and every chance thereafter.

 


	11. Ch11

“I hear they purposely leave one piece missing from every puzzle they give us just to keep us crazy in here,” Tom said in a conspiratorial tone.

 

“You’re being paranoid,” Zarah replied. “Why would they want us crazy? They want us better so they can get us out of their hair.”

 

“I guess we’ll see who’s right when we finish this one.”

 

Tom was Zarah’s new roommate ever since Keith had gotten out a few days ago. As much as he missed Keith, Zarah figured it was a good thing the boy was gone; he had heard most of the stories about the Shitennou when Zarah was new there and didn’t know any better than to talk about them. Tom was a clean slate, and Zarah made sure to only tell this roommate the same story he told the doctor: that he had made up the stories about the Shitennou to try to get attention from a father who disapproved of him. Zoisite was his self-insert Sue and Kunzite had been based on Kurt, his mentor and “big brother” figure from a young age. He even told Tom the fiction about the Senshi and Shitennou having been romantically involved in a previous life, wanting to keep his story consistent with everyone he spoke to just to make sure. He doubted Dr. Jeong actually spoke about him with the other patients, but why take a risk?

 

The puzzle was a picture of Mount Fuji with sakura trees in the foreground, which was why Zarah wanted to work it in spite of Tom’s warning. His roommate wasn’t much help, only putting in a random piece every now and again. Mostly he just wanted Zarah to finish so he could prove his conspiracy theory was true.

 

“Anyway, even if a piece or two does go missing, that doesn’t prove anything,” Zarah said. “As many people as have probably put this together over the years, something’s bound to get lost. I mean, what benefit would they possibly get out of keeping us here?”

 

“Duh, the money they get from our insurance.”

 

Zarah put the last piece on the table into place, and sure enough, there was a single piece missing right in the middle of the mountain. Tom opened his mouth to say his “I told you so,” but before he could get the words out, one of the nurses called Zarah’s name.

 

“This doesn’t prove anything,” Zarah said to shut his roommate down, before he accepted the letter the nurse had come to give him.

 

“Who’s it from?” Tom asked, moving to look over his roommate’s shoulder.

 

Zarah playfully pushed the other boy’s face away before he tore the envelope open. He knew that handwriting.

 

_ Dearest Zarah, _ it began.

 

_ I was hoping this letter wouldn’t find you in the hospital, but when I spoke to your family yesterday they said you were still there. _

 

Kurt had spoken to his family? Suddenly Zarah felt like he would be sick; he hadn’t intended them to meet until… well, preferably never... but at the very least he wanted to be there when they did. He found himself wishing Kurt had a number he could call to yell at him for it. Seriously, what had that man been thinking? The letter continued without another word about it, as if meeting Zarah’s parents had been no big deal.

 

_ Don’t be discouraged. Just remember what I told you about playing the game, and you’ll be home soon enough.  _

 

_ As for myself, I’m finding the boarding home a bit Spartan compared with the life I’d grown accustomed to, but I’m doing well. I have a job at a home improvement store, which is a start. I’m saving towards getting an apartment, though it may be a while until I can afford a car of my own. In the meantime, public transportation is… interesting, to say the least. _

 

_ I’ve been thinking about you every day. I worry about your well-being. Write soon and let me know how you’re doing; you can get in touch with me at this address for now. _

 

_ Ever Yours, _

_ Kurt _

 

_ P.S. I love you. _

 

Zarah stared at the postscript for a minute or two, scarcely even blinking. It was the first time anyone outside his own family had told him that. Granted, it wasn’t face to face, but it still made his heart skip every time he read over it, which he did something like ten or twelve times. Then he squealed like a teenaged girl and clutched the letter tightly against his chest.

 

“Who’s it from?” Tom just had to know. “What’s it say?”

 

“It-it’s not much, really. Just Kurt wanting to know how I’m doing, and talking about his new job and his adventures on public transportation.”

 

“If that’s all it is, why are you acting like that?”

 

He tried to play it off by saying, “So I’m an emotional person. Nothing wrong with that.” Then, to deflect attention, he asked, “Another puzzle?”

 

“What’s the point? There’ll just be a piece missing at the end just like the other one.”

 

“We won’t know until we try, though, will we?”

 

Tom sighed. “How many of these things are we gonna have to do before you’ll accept what’s happening here?”

 

Zarah smirked. “Exactly… five,” he pulled a number out of the air. “Now how about this puzzle with the wolves in the snow? That one’s pretty.”

 

“How many pieces does that have? A thousand?” Tom picked up another one which featured horses. “Here, this one is only five hundred. If I’m gonna waste time on puzzles with pieces out, I wanna do the ones with the least possible pieces.”

 

“Sure you wouldn’t rather have one from the kids’ ward? They probably have some with like fifty,” Zarah sassed.

 

“You think we could?”

 

Zarah rolled his eyes and carried the horse puzzle over to the table.


	12. Ch12

“Oh, Kurt, what a nice surprise,” Marian Andros, Zarah’s mother, said with a genuine smile. “Come in, come in. Would you like something to drink? Some coffee or tea, maybe?”

“Coffee would be nice,” he replied. In case she had forgotten how he took it, he added, “Two sugars and just a touch of cream, please.”

“Sure thing, sweetie,” she said, and left him alone in the living room while she went to make it in the kitchen.

Despite barely knowing the woman, Kurt wasn’t put off by being called names such as “honey” or “sweetie.” It was a common trait among Southern women to call even strangers such names, and he found it charming. He was a little more concerned about her carelessness in leaving a guest she hardly knew alone in her living room. Not that he planned to do anything untoward, of course. The closest to mischief he caused while she was gone was to examine the family photos on the walls and mantle. Kurt was holding a picture of a curly-topped, towheaded Zarah taken when he was maybe three or four years old, accompanied by three older girls when Mrs. Andros returned with a carafe of coffee and two mugs on a tray.

“Beautiful family you have,” he said, gesturing towards the photo.

“Yeah, this one is Eunike; she’s the oldest. There’s Selah, and Micaiah, and you know Zarah, of course.”

None of those were names he had heard before, but he found them all perfectly lovely. Hoping it wouldn’t sound like an insult, he wondered, “How did you come up with such unusual names for the children?”

Marian smiled the smile of someone who got asked that question a lot, and resented having to answer it all the time, but was trying to be polite anyway.

“Our family is very devout...aside from Zarah, who's determined to go his own way no matter what we say. We wanted Biblical names for the kids, but Phineas didn’t want just John and Mary, so we tried to pick less common names. Sometimes I wish we’d gone with the tried-and-true instead.”

Kurt waved a hand dismissively. “Much better to be one in a million than just another one of millions.”

“That’s a good way to look at it,” she said, taking a more recent picture off the wall. “The girls are all at college now. Only got Zarah left here now, and in a couple years we’ll be empty nesters.” Sighing, she looked up into Kurt’s ice blue eyes. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

He placed what he hoped was a reassuring hand on the woman's shoulder and said, “You’ll be fine. They’ll come visit… maybe eventually bring over grandkids.”

She emitted a shrill, anguished sound and for a moment Kurt thought she was going to collapse in his arms. He led her back to the couch and poured her a cup of coffee as she apologized for making such a scene.

“But, Kurt, I’m only 41 years old. I’m too young to be a granny,” she insisted, and reinforced that notion by saying, “Grannies are old.”

Was there going to be a baby some time soon, then, or was she just getting herself all worked up prematurely?

“So your grandchildren will be constantly asked whether you're their mother instead. And you don't have to have them call you Granny if you don't want to. You can assign yourself a younger title.”

She forced a smile. “Sorry, and thanks for putting up with my hysterics. I hope I didn't spoil your visit.”

“Not in the least. I’m enjoying getting to know where Zarah comes from. Perhaps you can tell me some stories of what he was like as a child.”

Marian blinked in confusion. “But Zarah said you knew each other since he was little.”

Kurt didn’t miss a beat. “One can be a very different person at home than outside it.”

“This is true,” she conceded, “especially with him. You know we didn't even know he liked boys like that till last year when we caught him-” She was interrupted when the phone rang, and held up a finger as she went to pick it up. “Hello? Oh, hey, what a coincidence, we was just talking about you. No, honey, your dad’s not home yet. I was just talking to Kurt. Yeah, he's right here if you’d like to talk a sec.”

A couple of seconds later the phone was being offered to him, just as he had hoped it would be. He had a few things to talk to Zarah about… preferably not in front of the boy’s mother, but he knew it would be rude and suspicious to ask her to leave the room, or even to answer in Japanese so she wouldn't understand. He would have to be careful and just hope they could both get their messages across without alarming anyone in the vicinity. 

“Hello?”

“What are you doing over at my house talking about me to my mom?” Zarah demanded to know.

“Your parents are actually quite nice. I enjoy our little visits,” Kurt replied as if there were nothing at all odd about that. “How are you doing?”

Zarah sighed. “Well, the doctor never changed my meds; they just watch me like a hawk to make sure I’m not cheeking. I think as long as I’m careful I should be out soon. Which, if you ask me, can’t come soon enough. I miss you… and my own bed… and I… I think I’m even starting to miss going to school.”

A fond smile crossed Kurt’s handsome face as he read between the lines into what the boy was really saying.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll be home soon enough,” he said. “I’m going to give you back to your mother now, but I just want you to know how proud I am of you right now.”

Without waiting for a reply, he gave the phone back to Zarah’s mother.

“Hey, sweetie, your dad and me are gonna go up there and visit tomorrow night. Is there anything you need us to bring, or are you ok?” she asked. “Yeah, sure, we can bring another phone card. And a what? Puzzle? Like you put together? What kind of picture? Oh, and how about money, you got any of that? You sure you don’t need none? Go to the canteen, treat yourself to a cake or candy bar, take your mind off- Oh? Well, if you’re sure… All right, we’ll see you then. We love you. Bye.”

Kurt thought he had pieced together most of the conversation from the one side he could hear, so he didn’t have to ask for more information.

“Now what was I saying before the phone rang?” she tried to remember.

“I’m afraid I actually have to go now or I’ll miss the bus,” he said apologetically.

“Oh, don’t you worry, I can drive you back. What time is your curfew again?”

“Seven, but are you sure it’s no inconvenience?”

“Not a bit. If you don’t mind leftover chicken I can even offer you some dinner before you go.”

Kurt smiled genuinely. “That sounds lovely, thank you.”


	13. Ch13

“Did you bring it?” Zarah asked as he took a seat between his parents on the couch.

 

“The phone card?” his mom assumed. “Of course we did, sweetie.”

 

“I meant the puzzle.”

 

“Oh, yeah, that. You didn’t say what kind of puzzle you wanted, so we just tried to pick something you’d like; we got a windmill and tulips. I hope that’s ok.”

 

“That’s fine. I really just want it to prove a point to my roommate,” Zarah said. “He thinks they purposely take one piece out of every puzzle to keep us crazy in here, but all these puzzles have probably been here for years, so they’re bound to have something missing. I thought bringing in a totally new one would be the best test. If there’s a piece out from a brand new puzzle you guys brought by the time I get it, I’ll know they did more than just check for contraband when they opened it up.” He smiled, proud of his own ingenuity.

 

“I see,” she said, though her tone of voice clearly said that she didn’t.

 

“Anyway, I heard Kurt’s paid a couple of visits to see you guys. So, um, what do you think?”

 

“He’s a sweetheart,” his mother said. “He always knows just what to say to make me feel better when I’m blue.”

 

“He seems to have a pretty good head on his shoulders,” his father reluctantly added. “Not what I expected at all when you first told me about him.”

 

Backhanded compliment though it may have been, Zarah thought it sounded like a ringing endorsement from his very critical father. He still didn’t think it would be safe to ask again whether Kurt could stay over for a while, but at least he didn’t think they would forbid them from seeing one another so long as Kurt didn’t treat him badly (which Zarah was sure he would never do.)

 

“I wrote this letter for him and I was gonna mail it, but I figure if he’s gonna be there visiting anyway, maybe you could give it to him?” Zarah requested.

 

“Can we read it first?” his father asked, and Zarah couldn’t tell if he was kidding or serious. He handed the letter over and his father did, indeed open it up to read it. Fortunately, the letter was in Japanese. Or maybe unfortunately? “What’s all this? Secret code?”

 

“It’s Japanese, I think,” his mother said. “Since when do you know Japanese?”

 

Zarah just shrugged, but couldn’t help thinking, ‘Maybe now you’ll start to believe me.’

 

“I think we need to show this to the doctor,” his dad said.

 

“What for? Dr. Jeong is Korean, not Japanese,” his mom said. “He can’t read it neither.”

 

Suddenly DeShawn was there asking, “Is there something wrong?”

 

So, what, did the staff listen in on all the visits? The only thing that stopped Zarah from making a snarky remark about that then and there was that this was DeShawn, whom he considered a friend despite the fact the man was staff.

 

His dad handed the note over for the nurse to look over, and was soon met with a bemused look.

 

“That letter is written in Japanese,” his father explained.

 

“...And?”

 

“Our son doesn’t know Japanese.”

 

DeShawn looked even more confused. “So you’re asking me to find someone who can translate?”

 

“I’m asking you to tell me how he wrote it when he doesn’t know Japanese.”

 

“You’re sure he wrote it?”

 

“Yes, I wrote it,” Zarah said with a sigh, “and I can read it. So can Kurt. I figure his roommates in the boarding home can’t, which is why I wrote it like that. Ok?”

 

“So, then, did he teach you?” his dad asked. “I know you didn’t learn it in school.”

 

“Hey, badgering isn’t gonna help,” DeShawn said. “If you’re gonna keep after him like that, this visit is over.”

 

“I think it’s over already,” Zarah said, getting up from the couch. “I would’ve just mailed the damned letter if I’d have known it would be such a big freaking deal.”

 

“Zarah, wait,” his mom called after him, but to no avail.

 

DeShawn found him a few minutes later right where he expected to- belly-flopped on the bed with his face in the pillow, sobbing.

 

“Your parents are just worried about you, that’s all.” When there was no answer, he continued, “I left the letter with your parents. Your mom said she would make sure he gets it.” Still no answer. “You know what? I think I’m starting to believe you.”

 

Zarah sniffled and rubbed his eyes. “You are?”

 

“Damned if I know how or why, but you know a language nobody can account for you ever having learned. I’m not ready to call it reincarnation, but it’s something.”

 

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell the doctor that.”

 

“I will. I’ll write it in your notes and talk to Dr. Jeong about it myself, in person, next time I see him.”

 

“Do you think it’ll do any good?”

 

“Do I think it’ll make him believe you?” DeShawn said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe if you write it right there in front of him he’ll believe you can do it. Do I think it’ll make him believe you’re reincarnated? Probably not, but it’ll give him something to think about.”


	14. Ch14

“Can you read it?” Marian Andros asked once she had handed Zarah’s letter over to its intended recipient.

 

Kurt nodded as he silently read it over.

 

_ K, _ it began as usual,

 

_ I’ve been waiting so long to have you say you love me the way I love you. I’ve known for a long time that you did, even if you never said so, but you don’t know how much it meant to me to read that at the end of your letter. The only thing that could be better would be to hear you say it out loud. Hopefully soon. _

 

_ I do have to ask, what made you think going to see my parents was a good idea? Especially without me there to prompt you on what I’ve told them about our history. I hope they haven’t caught you in any lies or anything… although I guess if they had, I would’ve heard about it by now. Just be careful, ok? _

 

_ I'm doing ok. Frustrated at how long it's taking me to get out of this place, but trying to be patient and do what I’m supposed to do, like you keep saying. I guess hope springs eternal; every day I just keep hoping someone will come in and tell me I’m about to get out. Every day so far I’ve been disappointed, but it’s coming, I just know it is. _

 

_ I’m glad to hear you have a job already. I’m sure you’ll have an apartment soon enough and then I can maybe come over sometimes and visit. I miss you so much. I can't wait till I get to feel your arms around me again (and more!) Until then… _

 

_ XOXOXO, Z _

 

“What does it say?” wondered Phineas.

 

“It says how he’s anxious to get out and how much he misses everyone,” Kurt replied, “and he scolded me for coming to meet you on my own. I think he wanted to be the one to make the introductions.”

 

“That sounds like him,” Marian said.

 

“Were you the one who taught Zarah Japanese?” her husband wondered. “You don't look Japanese.”

 

Kurt shook his head. “No, my parents are Saudi, originally, and I’ve lived here all my life.”

 

“Then where did you both learn to speak Japanese?”

 

“That… is another story for another day,” he said. Zarah didn’t like him making up details without him, so he felt like it was the safest answer he could give for now.

 

“You’re such a mystery; no wonder Zarah likes you so much. He just loves anything strange and mysterious, always has,” Marian said. There was a pause before she realized how offensive that sounded. “I don’t mean to say you’re weird or nothing, just-”

 

“No offense taken,” Kurt said with a reassuring hint of a smile. He had been called worse in his day- even by his own family, once they had their falling out. “If you don’t mind my asking, how old was Zarah when he started telling stories about former lives? Is it something he’s always done or is this new?”

 

“Zarah has always had a big imagination. When he was real little it was stories about scary monsters, mostly, but later it got more into those ones about the four men and the girls in sailor suits, and the monsters turned into the good guys. We wasn't worried cuz we just figured he’d grow out of it like most kids, but he never did.”

 

“We should’ve gotten him into counseling years ago,” the boy’s father lamented. “We could’ve avoided so much of this if we’d just been proactive.”

 

“Don’t beat yourself up for it; you did the best you could,” Kurt said.

 

He wouldn’t actually say he was glad Zarah had been sent to the hospital, but if that hadn’t happened, they might never have met in this life. Hell, Kurt might not have even been in this life too much longer, if one of his suicide attempts had worked. It was fate that they had happened to be in the same place at the same time to meet again that day, and now that they had found one another again, he had no intention of letting the boy slip away once again. That was part of the point of having gone to meet his parents, actually- to charm them into liking him so that (hopefully) they wouldn’t try to keep the pair apart.

 

“I’m glad he has someone as patient and kind as you to help him through all this,” Marian said, smiling softly as she placed a hand on Kurt’s shoulder.

 

He smiled at her fondly in return. So far, so good.


	15. Ch15

It was hard to concentrate with Dr. Jeong standing over him, watching like a hawk. Zarah heard the doctor “hm” every time he had to erase and rewrite a word. Zarah understood the need to make sure he didn’t cheat, but the pressure was making it hard to remember his kanji. What was the test? He had been given a paragraph in English to translate into Japanese, and a second passage in Japanese to translate into English. At the end was a set of questions in English he was meant to answer in Japanese and vice-versa.

 

“So did you use Google Translate to make this test or do you have a friend who actually knows Japanese?” Zarah asked.

 

“Why?’

 

“Because Google Translate sucks,” the boy replied. “And you didn’t answer the question.”

 

“I will have help evaluating the test,” was all the doctor would say.

 

Zarah tucked his blond curls back behind his ears. “Just so you know, there are different ways to translate things, so don’t freak out if I don’t use the exact wording you want.”

 

“Duly noted. But don’t use that as an excuse to translate poorly, either.” 

 

If he had any questions about whether Dr. Jeong was working with a real Japanese speaker, it was dispelled by the difficulty of the Japanese passage he was meant to translate into English. Apparently the doctor wanted to make sure Zarah knew more than just fanboy-level Japanese. His green eyes hardened with determination. He wasn’t about to fail this test; it could determine whether and when he got out of the place.

 

“There’s mail for you. I saw it in the nurses’ station window,” Tom said when Zarah returned, mentally exhausted, from taking the test. “I think it’s from your boyfriend.”

 

Zarah didn’t dignify his roommate’s teasing with a reply. Indeed he said nothing at all, only knocked lightly on the window of the nurses’ station and pointed at the letter with his name on it. One of the nurses handed it out to him, completing the transaction wordlessly.

 

Tom didn’t even bother to try to read over his shoulder this time; he knew Kurt and Zarah’s correspondence was never in English, to prevent prying eyes like his.

 

_ Dearest Zarah, _

 

_ I am sorry I was unable to tell you my feelings in the past. I’m afraid I have trouble expressing myself in that way, but I’m trying to work through that. You will hear me say it next time we meet, I promise. _

 

_ Don’t worry about my meeting your parents; I’ve been careful not to say much about our pasts or how we know one another. We’ll get our story straight after you get out and they’ll never be any the wiser. And I wasn’t lying when I said I enjoy their company. They’re both quite nice and easy to talk to. _

 

_ It’s been suggested I apply for social security disability payments and income-based housing, as my history of mental health issues could be enough to help me qualify. I should still be able to work at the same time, so long as I only do it part time. My pride is telling me not to ask for such assistance, but intellectually I know this may be my best chance for getting back onto my feet as quickly as possible. I can’t count on my parents to take care of me anymore. _

 

_ Are you still drawing? I still treasure the picture you drew me, but if it’s all right, I would like to request you send me a self-portrait to hang up. I’m sure it will be lovely. Thank you in advance. _

 

_ Ever yours, _

_ Kurt _

 

There was no p.s. declaring his love this time, for which Zarah was a little disappointed, but knowing Kurt was bad at expressing himself as it was, he decided to just be grateful for what he got. Maybe in time it would become easier.

 

As Zarah re-folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope, he heard Tom ask, “So, are we finally gonna do that windmill puzzle your family brought? That was your big test, wasn’t it? For whether or not they’re messing with the puzzles?”

 

“No can do. Tonight I draw.”

 

“What, more flowers? Our room looks like a greenhouse already.”

 

“A self-portrait,” Zarah said, flipping his hair back over his shoulder. “Kurt asked me to send him one.”

 

“Can’t he just get a photo or something?”

 

“Knowing my mom, she’s given him a few already, but I guess he’s tired of staring at a pic I drew that looks like himself-”

 

“And he wants to stare at one that looks like his boyfriend instead,” Tom said with a nod. “I got it.”

 

Zarah couldn’t decide if his roommate was accepting of the idea of Kurt being his boyfriend, or if he was really trying to be mean with his teasing. It could be hard to tell with Tom.

 


	16. Ch16 & Epilogue

The portrait was even more beautiful than he would have expected, especially for having been done in crayon. There was a bit of anime influence in the eyes, drawn large and expressive, but overall the style was fairly realistic. That was definitely Zarah’s delicate little nose and rosebud lip pattern. His blond hair was loose in the drawing, tumbling in fluffy waves and curls over his shoulders. It was obvious Zarah had a lot of talent for drawing, but it needed to be nurtured and allowed to mature. There was a letter inside as well, but Kurt still had yet to read it. The moment he had read the note scrawled on back of the envelope, he had dropped everything and headed for the bus stop. The note had proclaimed, in large letters written in red crayon,  _ I’m getting out! _ As the bus appeared around the corner, he hastily stuffed the drawing back into the envelope and the envelope into his back pocket. The letter would have been sent a couple of days ago, at least; Zarah should be home by now.

 

He was greeted with a hug at the Andros’ door, and that was just by Zarah’s mom.

 

“Oh, Kurt, great news!” she said in lieu of a proper greeting. “Guess who’s home?”

 

It wouldn’t have been hard to guess even if he hadn’t gotten that note scrawled on the back of that letter.

 

“I’m glad,” he replied. “How’s he settling in?”

 

“About as good as you’d expect for someone who’s been away from home for weeks. He’s got a lot of catching up to do with school and all.”

 

Kurt nodded. “I won’t keep him long, then.”

 

He had a curfew to make at the group home, anyway.

 

Marian took him upstairs to where Zarah lay on his stomach on the bed, propped up on his elbows, poring over his algebra book. Or so it would seem. Upon closer inspection, one might notice his equations had given way to doodles towards the bottom of the page as his concentration waned. He startled a little as his mom knocked on the (already open) door out of politeness.

 

“Zarah, honey, there’s someone here to see you,” she said sweetly.

 

There was an audible gasp before he scrambled up off the bed, hurried over and pounced Kurt so suddenly that the man had to stumble back a step or two so they didn’t both fall over. Zarah hugged his mentor as tightly as he could.

 

“Kurt! I missed you so much!” he said.

 

“I’ll leave you two alone for a minute,” Marian excused herself. “Door stays open, please.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

“It’s good to see you home,” Kurt said, “And thank you for the beautiful drawing.”

 

“I just hope it meets up with your expectations,” Zarah said humbly.

 

“Meets and exceeds. You really do have quite the talent for art.”

 

“Thanks,” Zarah said, blushing.

 

Kurt caressed his pupil’s soft, rounded face, so cherubic in its beauty. It was hard to imagine someone so lovely could ever have been turned to such evil. But that was a different life, a different person, he had to remind himself. He was still acquainting himself with the person his pupil had become in this life. He wanted to know every detail, but he would have to pace himself. Now that they had found one another, they had the rest of their lives to explore and learn about one another. For now, one question weighed most heavily on his mind:

 

“So how did you convince them to let you go home? Did you manage to convince them your past memories were only works of fiction?”

 

“Not quite,” Zarah replied, “and I’m pretty sure Dr. Jeong would’ve kept me longer if not for that one letter I wrote you.”

 

“The one your parents saw?”

 

“Yeah, DeShawn told Dr. Jeong I knew Japanese but had never studied it. The doctor thought he could catch me at something, gave me this big, long test to see how much Japanese I really knew.”

 

“Which, of course, you passed.”

 

“Not just that,” Zarah said with a self-conscious little grin, “but the friend he got to grade the test told him my Japanese was that of a gay man from the ‘90s, which of course no Japanese class is ever going to teach, and he didn’t think I could have answered all those questions so well if I had learned it all from anime. He couldn’t explain it. Dr. Jeong was forced to admit I knew things I had no way of knowing as a teenager from Georgia. The next day I was sent home.”

 

“Interesting. Though I suppose he never admitted belief in your reincarnation.”

 

“He didn’t have to. As long as I’m home and life can get back to normal, I don’t care what he believes.”

 

Life was going to be better than just “normal” for the both of them now, though, because now they would have each other.

 

Kurt wrapped his arms around Zarah’s lithe body, pulled him close and placed a kiss on the top of his head.

 

“I love you,” he said, barely above a whisper, and he heard Zarah’s breath catch at the sound of the words. He loosened his grip and held the boy a little further away, until he could look him in the eyes, and repeated with a bit more ease and confidence, “I love you, Zarah.”

 

Tears threatened to fall from those green eyes as Zarah threw his arms around Kurt once again, burying his face in the taller man’s chest. Kurt just held him for a minute or two, stroking his hair. He idly wondered what shampoo Zarah used; his hair smelled amazing- a mix of exotic tropical fruits and flowers. He found himself wishing he could conjure a flower to place in his pupil’s hair, but that, too, was part of another person living another life, years ago.

 

Finally, “I love you, too,” Zarah reciprocated. “Kiss me?”

 

“I-I shouldn’t, not here in your parents’ house.”

 

As religious as they were, Kurt knew they wouldn’t appreciate walking in on seeing him kissing their son passionately on the lips, especially not while Zarah was still living under his parents’ roof and thus subject to their rules. And he hadn’t worked so hard to earn their trust only to betray it now (no matter how much Zarah pouted.) For now they would both have to settle for a chaste kiss on the forehead. Then he reluctantly let go and turned to leave.

 

“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your homework…”

 

“Don’t go yet! You just got here!” Zarah protested. “Um… do you know anything about quadratic equations? Maybe you can stay and help me with my homework.”

 

“Unfortunately, I have a curfew to make. I’m afraid I can’t.”

 

“My mom or dad could take you back. I’m sure they won’t mind.”

 

Zarah pouted cutely and pleaded with his eyes until Kurt finally gave in.

 

“I… guess I can take a look and see whether I remember how to do it.”

 

That was good enough for Zarah, who tugged his mentor over to where his school books were lying out on his bed. This was probably the only time his parents wouldn’t freak out over looking into his room to check on him and finding him on the bed with a man.

  
  
  
  


Epilogue

 

Zarah had left his windmill puzzle in Tom’s care when he went home, and now the boy sat at a table in the common room diligently working on putting it together. He silently cursed Zarah’s parents for bringing one with so many pieces. This was going to take forever!

 

“Hey,” asked a friendly voice, “you need a little help with that?”

 

Tom looked up to find one of the last people he wanted to see: one of the nurses, a guy named DeShawn. Zarah had seemed to like him a lot, but that didn’t make him any less staff. It didn’t necessarily mean he was trustworthy..

 

“What, so you can take one of the pieces and keep me crazy?”

 

“No, so I can give you this,” DeShawn replied, dropping a piece on the table.

 

Tom blinked several times as he picked the stray piece up and examined it.

 

“So I was right all along! You guys really do take and hide pieces.”

 

“I think you just dropped one. I found it on the floor over there.”

 

“Oh,” Tom said, finding and sticking the piece in the place where it fit. “Thanks.”

 

“No problem, brother, and if you change your mind about needing help with that, just let me know. That's a lot of pieces for one person to do on his own.”

 

DeShawn had turned to go when Tom called out after him, “I’m really not all that great at puzzles, so if you really wanna help…”

 

“Sure.”

 

He hated the way a couple of the other nurses had conspired to take a piece out of this puzzle when they learned of Tom’s conspiracy theories, and the test that had been conceived to find out for sure. Finding and returning the piece seemed like the least DeShawn could do to help preserve one boy’s sanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So finally we’ve reached the end! Whee! Thanks for reading and for being patient with me as I procrastinated months sometimes between writing chapters. This isn’t the last you’ll hear from Kurt and Zarah, though! I plan to start writing more for them immediately. They’re too cute to let go.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt this time was, “Imagine your OTP’s love is so strong that literally nothing can keep them apart.”
> 
> If I take too long adding new parts for this series, you are officially allowed to poke me.


End file.
